Scene in a Bar
by Sapphire2007
Summary: House runs into Cuddy in a bar, asking himself what brought her there and the two of them get lost in memories. Just a short fic, singleshot, nothing big, but I still hope you enjoy it ! Oh ! And the characters are not mine !


This is just a single shot, ficlet, some gibber gabber in my head. It's not even my idea, well not completely. This is why it's dedicated to _wickedfiend.  
_Hope you enjoy it anyway, it definetely served the purpose of distracting me from studying. Now I feel guilty.

* * *

**Scene in a Bar **

House checked his watch as he looked inside the pub.

Of course, Wilson was late. He was always late on Friday nights.

And this was the last chance he would give him, it was getting annoying.

This was their third poker Friday in a row and Wilson always lost anyway, there was no point in continuing this especially since it was turning into a habit and House hated new habits that interfered with his old ones.

Friday had always been hooker night, or at least it was reserved for some good adult entertainment, if not for the lecture of the newest approaches in Ophthalmology.

House could never get enough of the insane science projects going on in the smallest fields of medicine.  
There was a reason why the results of these projects were only printed in medical journals only accessible to the paying highly qualified customer and that the articles always managed to be written in a completely illegible, nauseatingly boring style.  
Because if people actually understood the true meaning of these articles they would scratch their heads, turn around and spend their money on more useful stuff, like a boat or a motor cycle.  
And then research would die.

He had one of these medical journals under his arm as he entered the pub that was packed with people. It was noisy, smelly, warm and anonymous, the last aspect being the only one that convinced him to stay.

His eyes instantly checked out the insides of the place in its entirety. From the lamps on the ceilings to the bottles on the shelf behind the bar, from the few empty tables next to the restrooms to the group of young women obviously warming up for their bachelorette party in the opposite corner.

He narrowed his eyes though when he recognized an irregularity in the row of people lined up next to each other, sitting at the bar.  
There was only one single woman among what mostly seemed to be business partners and friends hanging out for some drinks.  
House studied the back of that woman with dark curly hair wearing an expensive coat and even more expensive shoes.

He had heard the sound of these shoes at least once that day.

And even though they looked elegantly fragile and seemed to promise that the owner of them was up for hot steamy Friday night action, he knew that in fact the owner of them wouldn't hesitate to use them as a weapon. And that they were not fragile at all given the fact that the woman wearing them had energetically patrolled the whole hospital in them all day, like the never tiring general of an army.  
He would never understand in what way a woman's cerebellum differed from a man's that they were actually really capable of walking in these shoes.  
Why didn't anybody do research on that rather than on the question whether caterpillar hairs could penetrate the vitreous body of the eye ball ?

For a moment he hesitated because she couldn't see him.  
He could easily back out and go home, thereby killing two birds with one stone by also avoiding the poker night with Wilson.  
But then Wilson would probably show up at this pub at some point and if there was anyone he would want to see spending time with Cuddy less than himself it was Wilson.  
After two dates a third accidental one on a Friday night would have to lead to something.  
Especially since Cuddy was hungry. Her shoes, her newly coiffed hair, her elegant black skirt, the push-up bra she was wearing under her low cut top and her extra mascara had told him that when he had entered her office that morning.  
He hadn't said anything, the woman deserved some fun.  
Because apparently to her it was just fun, she wasn't looking for anything serious.  
Why else would she have dated that ballroom dance loving lube guy ?

But she was alone now. And this pub was neither a place for a blind date nor for someone dressed that well.  
He smirked.  
Something must have gone wrong.  
And he wanted to know it.  
He wanted to know why Cuddy wouldn't have any fun that night.

So he approached her from behind, squeezing in between her and another man sitting next to her with his back turned towards her.  
He made sure the handle of his cane hit the man's back forcefully enough to get through the mass of fatty tissue guarding his muscles.

"Excuse me ?" the man irritatedly turned around to look at House and House gave him a coy but somehow belligerent look, pointing at his cane.

"Oh, excuse ME", House said in a faked polite tone. "It's just this wire in my brain ever since my accident. I can't control it. I'm deeply sorry if I hurt you", he added letting a serious look of pain and sorrow on his face follow his words.  
"She's a doctor", he added, nodding towards Cuddy who had turned around, too and was staring at him in disbelief. "I'm sure she'd be happy to explain it to you."

The man looked at him, then at Cuddy, who was obviously feeling very uncomfortable for obvious reasons, and decided to give in.

"Asshole", he finally mumbled and left his spot at the bar.

House took his spot now with a satisfied smile and sat down on the bar stool.  
Cuddy shook her head and turned away from him, trying to catch the bartender's attention.

"Can I have the check please ?" she asked him but House interrupted her.

"No, give her another one of those Virgin Coladas, it's on me", he said and the bartender looked at Cuddy, waiting for her approval.

"Check !" she said again, now even more determinately and the bartender turned away to get her check.

"Partypooper", House snarled at her and she looked at him somberly.

"I'm not the one who almost started a fight in a pub and then played the cripple card to cowardly back out of it", she mumbled coldly and he shrugged his shoulders.

"Wanted to sit next to you. You should acknowledge my motives more instead of whining over my methods", he retorted and she looked at him thoughtfully.

"Are you stalking me again ?" she finally asked him and he frowned in fake surprise, waving his hand wearily.

"After stalking you watching the annual American Philatelic Society's discussion round on TV showed more potential to thrill me. Your last date was boring."

"It wasn't", she instantly shot back. "Cause if it had been boring you wouldn't have shown up at my door trying to play chaperon", she replied and knew she had a point.

He looked away awkwardly.  
She took her wallet out of her purse to pay for her drink, feeling satisfied at the notion that she was right about his motives for disturbing the best date she had had that year so far.

"So, where's your date now ?" he gnarled when Cuddy had finished paying her drink and was putting her wallet pack into her purse.

"Not here", she simply stated and got ready to get up.

House got up as well and got in her way.  
She sighed and looked at him in annoyance.

"What are you doing ?" she asked him impatiently and raised her eyebrows waiting for an answer.

He just looked down at her silently and with such intensity that she narrowed her eyes, giving him a suspicious look.

"Are you _on_ something ?" she asked in an irritated tone, noticing his unusually wide pupils and he shrugged his shoulders.

"I'm waiting for Wilson. You know he always does his snuggle bunny rounds on Friday afternoons. It could take an hour till he gets here. You really wanna let me wait alone ?" he responded.

She furrowed her brow when she heard the subtle seriousness in his voice. But it worked, it disarmed her.

"Well, since you asked so _nicely_", she replied hardly sarcastically at all, surprised at his unusual approach.

"Good", he simply answered. "I knew there was a heart somewhere hidden in this ice castle", he stated and the two of them sat down again.

"Get her another Bloody Mary and for me just a Scotch", he snapped at the bartender and Cuddy looked at him.

"How did you know I had a Bloody Mary ?" she asked.

"Your breath smells like celery", he replied and she smiled.

He was the most attentive person she knew, and somehow that ironically made him the most sensitive person she knew as well.

They remained silent and watched their drinks being made.  
It felt strange, the two of them sitting next to each other in a pub.  
Like friends. Or like any other couple on a Friday night.  
Or like colleagues hanging out after work.  
Or like two complete strangers that happened to end up in the same place by accident.

They were still silent even after they had received their drinks.

He stared at the ice cubes jingling in his glass indulging in her simple presence.

"Did he ditch you ?" he finally broke the silence, almost sounding aggressive for some reason.

"What ?" Cuddy replied, obviously having been miles away before his words had reached her ears.

"Your blind date, did he ditch you ?" he repeated indifferently and she lifted her glass to her lips, taking a cautious sip of her Bloody Mary since she was still feeling the effects of the first one making her dizzy.

"No", she softly responded. "I ditched _him_."

House nodded respectfully, noticing that this fact pleased him more than he would have expected.

"Why ?" he then asked and she looked at him in surprise.

"Do you actually care or is this just small talk ?" she countered irritatedly and realized that he never made small talk, so he had to care and that felt disturbing.

Hence, she remained silent. And so did he.

This silence was new to them because whenever they met all they did was talking. Fighting, in fact. But when it came to a normal grown-up conversation they were lost.  
What had turned them into this ?  
Why was it so hard for them to let go, to just be who they were sometimes ?  
She took another sip of her Bloody Mary.  
And after a thoughtful sigh she did let go.

"He was ugly", she finally admitted and House looked at her from the side.

"You know, if you really wanna find true love you have to stop judging books by the cover", he sneered and she rolled her eyes.

"I wasn't looking for true love", she replied coolly. "And he was too short", she added, almost childishly.

"Only because his legs are short, doesn't mean the rest of his equipment is", he found himself defending a complete stranger who would never have the luck to sleep with her just because of a lack of growth hormone.

She turned her head around at him and gave him a disgusted look.

"House, I'm really not that needy", she snorted and shook her head. "Seriously, he looked like…." and took a pause to find the right comparison until her eyes widened. "…that guy in Michigan who got kicked out for peeing into a professor's convertible after he had failed one of his classes. You remember him, don't you ?"

House shook his head.

"No, don't remember him, but that professor was a moron. And his convertible was ugly. If that guy hadn't peed on it I would have done it", he responded.

Then he looked up.

"Wait, wasn't he this chubby blonde kid with the beard ?" he finally seemed to remember and she saw his face light up.

She nodded. "So you do remember him", she stated and he shrugged his shoulders.

"He was annoying. But his parties were pretty cool", he admitted unwillingly.

"Yah, his parties were fun", she agreed dreamily and smiled at him openly, suddenly feeling the connection they had lost at some point.

"He also threw this legendary party for those who couldn't go to spring break because of the finals, didn't he ?" he asked, suddenly feeling vivid memories flooding his mind.

She nodded and felt a strange glow in the center of her body.

"Yes, they turned the whole library into a beach for one night. I still had sand in my shoes long after the finals", she said almost cheerfully and he looked at her, noticing how she had let go of her usual guardedness and was now only a woman sitting next to him in a pub, smiling at him, talking to him, as if nothing else in the world existed.

It was nice for a change. Maybe he should start adding vodka to her morning coffee. The amphetamines sure had helped Wilson, maybe it was time to dose her with something. It was her turn anyway.

Then another memory was brought back.

It almost felt unreal and still he knew it wasn't just a fantasy in his head.  
This was real, the memory was real. And the look on her face was real.

"Do you remember that party after the finals, too ?" he suddenly asked her hoarsely.

She smiled innocently but noticing the different almost smoky tone in his voice that made her mouth dry so that she lifted her glass to her lips again.  
Not averting her look while she felt the drink running down the back of her throat, leaving a spicy taste on her tongue.  
Slowly she turned towards him on her chair and let her fingertips glide down on the cold wet surface of her now half emptied glass.  
His eyes were focussing on every move she made, noticed the twitch of her lips, noticed the knowing look in her eyes, the eyebrow raising above her right eye, her fingers running up and down the glass and her other hand brushing through her hair, indicating that she did remember the party in every detail.

"Why ? Was there anything worth remembering ?" she asked indifferently and glanced at him, with an almost kittenish expression on her face.

They exchanged meaningful looks excluding the world.  
Because no one could read or understand these looks, except for the two of them.  
They were sharing the same thoughts, seeing the memories lighting up in each other's eyes.

Until he looked back at the glass in his hand and shook his head curling his lips.

"No. Just the usual stuff. People getting drunk, drugged…and laid", he replied just as coyly but making sure he emphasized the right words and she nodded and turned back towards the bar again, feeling the heat rising in her face.

In his own weird way this was as close to admitting his feelings for her as he could get. It was nice, it meant that all the things that had happened to him over these past months hadn't happened for nothing. That she hadn't perjured herself for nothing. Because he had started taking tiny steps out of his comfort zone. And she refused to believe that this was all about his antidepressants.

She felt a smile on her lips and glanced at him from the side. He cautiously returned the look and furrowed his brow at her indignantly.

"What ?" he asked her and she shook her head knowingly.

A lot had happened since then. And at the same time it seemed like nothing had happened.

"That was long ago, wasn't it ?" she silently added after a pause but he showed no reaction and went back to staring at the ice cubes in his glass instead.

She felt how suddenly the window that had been opened between them was closing again.

And she felt how the second Bloody Mary was reaching her brain making the room spin.

"I think I should go", she finally stated and reached for her purse when she heard his voice almost out of the blue again.

"So you're not joining me and Wilson for our Friday night strip poker session ?" he asked her in his usual grumpy tone.

"Sounds very tempting, but I actually think I'll pass", she retorted softly and paid the bartender for her drink again.

"Why ? Think we might be in favor cause we're wearing underwear ?" he mocked her and she smiled viciously.

"Wilson isn't wearing any underwear", she replied in a mysterious tone and grinned when she saw the surprise on his face.

She kept him on tenterhooks for a few seconds, enjoying his speechlessness and the flabbergasted look on his face.  
Finally she sighed and shook her head.

"He came to my place to do his entire laundry yesterday because the laundry service in his hotel is all messed up. He had no time to pick up his stuff and I certainly won't bring his laundry to work. Way too much inspiration for the gossip industry. So he's been wearing the same shirt for days, has no socks and no underwear. It's all in my tumble dryer", she finally solved the mystery.  
"I actually thought you'd noticed that, too", she added a little confused.

But House was still skeptical. Because of the whole image of Wilson's boxer shorts spinning around in her washing machine. It just didn't fit.

"All his shirts look the same", he evaded when he had fully regained his speech still trying to digest the images in his head.

How was he going to play poker with a guy who wasn't wearing any underwear ?

"You sure he's not wearing any of _your_ underwear at the moment ?" he added and she smiled and got up.

"Well, guess you'll have to win that strip poker game of yours tonight to find out", she whispered steamily, leaning in towards him so that her breath tickled his ear.

For a second her fingertips brushed his shoulder and her perfume filled the air he was breathing in, all this seemingly slowing down time, just for the blink of an eye.  
Then she walked away, leaving the air loaded with electricity that seemed to rain down on him in sparks that burned on his skin.  
He listened to her heels clacking on the wooden floor of the pub as she left and lifted his glass, smiling to himself.

When Cuddy stepped outside she almost bumped into Wilson who had stood outside for a minute and had watched the unusual scene he had found himself witnessing unexpectedly.

They had seemed so comfortable around each other for the first time in years.  
So he had granted them that moment and had patiently waited outside.  
Judging by the glint in Cuddy's eyes this had been the right decision.  
Seeing her so relaxed and content after an encounter with House and seeing him smiling at her broke the laws of nature.

But it was nice for a change.

And changes involving House were a rare occasion.


End file.
